This was written as a writing exorcize for the February 8, 2012 meeting of the Vernon Area Writers' Support Group. It has been transcribed here with only spelling mistakes being fixed.
The description for the exorcize read: "It's spring. Your character is walking out of doors and sees the burgeoning trees and flowers, hears the birdsong. But the character's reaction to all this newness and freshness is not what you would expect..."
It had seemed like such a long time being stuck in that pit, the darkness, the closeness, the press of the other miners, of the rough rock walls. To emerge into this picturesque spring day was exactly what they had all talked about as hours became days, as the canteens ran dry and their throats became coated in dust and grit. Hadn't David talked about walking out into the sun and praising any deity that would listen? And Tony wouldn't shut up about the first thing he was going to eat when they were finally dug free.
Clarence had gone along with all of it, had his dream of dunking his head into a barrel full of icy water. And then there was that jar of shine he'd been saving for a special occasion.
But as they emerged into the light and openness it was all wrong. The birds were too loud. The media people with their cameras and shouted questions. It was too much. Clarence drifted back toward the hole.
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Thursday, February 9, 2012
Monday, January 17, 2011
The Puzzle is Coming Together, a writing post
I’m still chugging along on my current writing project. As of this writing, I’m at 41,408 words, all hand written. I’m setting monthly goals, and so far have been able to make them. For the current writing project, it amounts to writing at least 400 words per day. Some days I make it, some days I don’t. Friday, I didn’t write anything, but have gone over my daily goal most other days this month.
Why am I writing it all out longhand? I don’t know if there’s one really good reason. It started that way, as most of my writing projects tend to. There was something that seemed to work about writing it all on blue paper, folded into quarters and carried around in a pocket or book bag. It made me really think about the story. And I didn’t have to rely on being able to get to the computer, which I don’t always have access to since we have one for the household.
I’m nearing the end of the story, and as things come together, I’m seeing that the picture I originally thought was there is very different from the picture I see now. I have lots of sections written in red pen that completely change some of the story that has come before it and will call for major rewrites later. This is where I’m kind of kicking myself in the butt, because if I had been typing this from the get go, I could easily put those notes in the proper places or even do a little revising now to make the process easier later. As it stands, I have a lot of rewriting and expansion to do during round two. But even that isn’t bothering me too much.
The original word count goal for the first draft was 80,000 words. But I’m thinking that it will really be more like 50,000 with a lot added in later. I know in On Writing Stephen King said that the second draft = first draft - 10%, but that never seems to be the way it works out for me. Usually the first draft is quick and dirty, I’m getting the story down so I don’t forget it and adding the details later.
After this first draft is done, I think I’ll be revisiting my NaNovel from 2009 and writing some short stories. It’s time to get serious about the writing life if I want to see my name in print (outside of when I was on someone’s payroll doing magazine work that is). I think I’m headed in the right direction, but only time will tell.
Why am I writing it all out longhand? I don’t know if there’s one really good reason. It started that way, as most of my writing projects tend to. There was something that seemed to work about writing it all on blue paper, folded into quarters and carried around in a pocket or book bag. It made me really think about the story. And I didn’t have to rely on being able to get to the computer, which I don’t always have access to since we have one for the household.
I’m nearing the end of the story, and as things come together, I’m seeing that the picture I originally thought was there is very different from the picture I see now. I have lots of sections written in red pen that completely change some of the story that has come before it and will call for major rewrites later. This is where I’m kind of kicking myself in the butt, because if I had been typing this from the get go, I could easily put those notes in the proper places or even do a little revising now to make the process easier later. As it stands, I have a lot of rewriting and expansion to do during round two. But even that isn’t bothering me too much.
The original word count goal for the first draft was 80,000 words. But I’m thinking that it will really be more like 50,000 with a lot added in later. I know in On Writing Stephen King said that the second draft = first draft - 10%, but that never seems to be the way it works out for me. Usually the first draft is quick and dirty, I’m getting the story down so I don’t forget it and adding the details later.
After this first draft is done, I think I’ll be revisiting my NaNovel from 2009 and writing some short stories. It’s time to get serious about the writing life if I want to see my name in print (outside of when I was on someone’s payroll doing magazine work that is). I think I’m headed in the right direction, but only time will tell.
Friday, November 5, 2010
NaNoWriMo Blahs
It's November once again, and for the past three years, that has meant NaNoWriMo, that mad cap race to produce 50,000 words of fiction in 30 days.
Leading up to NaNoWriMo, I was a little on the fence about whether or not to go for it this year. I have successfully completed NaNoWriMo for the last three years, and I have a number of friends and acquaintences online and in meat space that are participating this year.
With that in mind, I started over with a story that I began writing after NaNo was done last year and only got about 6,000 words into. I'm at about the same point now as when I stopped writing last time. There are differences in each version, mostly minor, but with a couple scenes from the original version that have not appeared in any way in the new version. I have a couple scenes in the new version that are expanded from the old version or did not appear in the old version.
This year, more so than any other year, trying to do NaNoWriMo is like pulling teeth. There are a number of factors that I believe are making it so: we have two children at home a 4 year old and a 1 year old (at least last year the 1 year old was only a few weeks old and was still at that mostly lay around or sleep/eat/poop stage); I've got a full-time job and plenty to keep my busy around the house (no real change there from last year); I have another story that I'm almost 20,000 words into that I'm really liking at this point and I want to work on that more than the NaNo; as I'm writing this year's NaNovel, it just seems so dumb which isn't very motivating; and I'm just damn tired.
Why don't I work on the 20,000-word project for NaNoWriMo you ask? Well, for one I'm taking this one a little slower, and I'm writing the first draft all by hand. I enjoy doing that every once in a while and I'm really enjoying the process right now.
Usually during the first few days of NaNo I'm excited and really want to jump into the project. I'm just not feeling that this year. We'll see how the weekend goes and how the story comes along, but if I'm not feeling much better about the whole thing by Monday, I might bow out this year. That would free up more time for the 20,000-word project, which is really what I'd rather be working on right now.
Leading up to NaNoWriMo, I was a little on the fence about whether or not to go for it this year. I have successfully completed NaNoWriMo for the last three years, and I have a number of friends and acquaintences online and in meat space that are participating this year.
With that in mind, I started over with a story that I began writing after NaNo was done last year and only got about 6,000 words into. I'm at about the same point now as when I stopped writing last time. There are differences in each version, mostly minor, but with a couple scenes from the original version that have not appeared in any way in the new version. I have a couple scenes in the new version that are expanded from the old version or did not appear in the old version.
This year, more so than any other year, trying to do NaNoWriMo is like pulling teeth. There are a number of factors that I believe are making it so: we have two children at home a 4 year old and a 1 year old (at least last year the 1 year old was only a few weeks old and was still at that mostly lay around or sleep/eat/poop stage); I've got a full-time job and plenty to keep my busy around the house (no real change there from last year); I have another story that I'm almost 20,000 words into that I'm really liking at this point and I want to work on that more than the NaNo; as I'm writing this year's NaNovel, it just seems so dumb which isn't very motivating; and I'm just damn tired.
Why don't I work on the 20,000-word project for NaNoWriMo you ask? Well, for one I'm taking this one a little slower, and I'm writing the first draft all by hand. I enjoy doing that every once in a while and I'm really enjoying the process right now.
Usually during the first few days of NaNo I'm excited and really want to jump into the project. I'm just not feeling that this year. We'll see how the weekend goes and how the story comes along, but if I'm not feeling much better about the whole thing by Monday, I might bow out this year. That would free up more time for the 20,000-word project, which is really what I'd rather be working on right now.
Thursday, October 7, 2010
So Close!
I'm so close to my monthly writing goals this month I can...feel it?...taste it?...sniff it? I don't know, but whatever you'd do with an end result like that, I'm almost there.
My goals for this "month" (September 15-October 13, which is the cycle of the Writer's Support Group I went to) are:
My goals for this "month" (September 15-October 13, which is the cycle of the Writer's Support Group I went to) are:
- Write 10,000 words of the Sold Soul story. I've got about 1,900 words to go, or about 250 per day, which is totally doable. I should have room to spare for that one.
- Complete one revision of a short story about love potions. Done!
- Write 10 blog posts. I've got 8 done, and this counts for another, so I'm almost there. I even have one planned for tomorrow.
- Complete one revision of the Merlin's Yard Sale story. This is the goal I'm farthest from at this point. I did start on it the other night, but was so tired I was having a hard time staying awake. Honestly, it was my own exhaustion that put me to sleep, not the story. I swear.
I'm in a really good mood about all this, which is helping to keep me motivated. And I'm starting to think of next month's goals and what will keep me going. NaNoWriMo is coming up, and I plan on torturing myself with that again, so I'll have to work that into the goals somehow.
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
The Caveman Viking
It was after a particularly warm winter, while Sven and his clansmen were tracking game across the melting tundra, that they came across the shadow of a man seemingly embedded in a block of ice. It was a curiosity to them all, for even Swissgar Torbaldson, eldest warrior of the clan, had never spoken of such a thing as the shadow of a man in ice. Thinking this to be an omen, but not sure of what, Sven and his companions carefully removed the block of ice and returned with it to the village.
Everyone marveled at this thing, which must surely be a message from Odin. A great feast was prepared and the fires were piled high with wood to thank Odin for this omen and ask him for guidance. Soon the clan was sleepy with drink, and they returned to their lodges. The block of ice was left in the center of the village near the still roaring fires. In the morning, the members of the clan awoke to find that the ice was gone, and in its place was a man-thing.
He was naked, and cold to the touch, but getting warmer as the day drew on. In his hand was a crude club. While his shape resembled a man, he was shorter than anyone in the clan, built squat and hunched. His forehead was tall and looked like it could be used to as a ram to smash his enemies.
“Could this be one of the dwarves from the mountain,” asked one of the women of the village. “Perhaps Loki played a trick on him, or maybe he angered Odin.”
“Surely not,” replied Swissgar, “because he has no beard, and no dwarf would ever carry a weapon as crude as that.”
The men of the village brought the man-thing closer to the fire to warm and wake him, but kept careful watch in case he should arise and be an enemy.
When the man-thing finally woke, he was groggy and disoriented. He struck out at the people around him, but he attacked in fear, not from hate. Being trapped in the ice for so long, he fell tired quickly and was subdued easily. The men of the village brought him away to a storage house, but left him with food and water, and dressed him in some of the clothes that were too big for the boys and too small for the men.
After many weeks and a God’s worth of patience and effort, the man-thing, who answered to Grog, was taught the way of the Vikings, taught to use their tools and weapons. And he became one of their fiercest warriors, rushing into battle without fear of pain or death. The other clans learned to fear the members of Torbaldson’s clan and their caveman Viking.
Everyone marveled at this thing, which must surely be a message from Odin. A great feast was prepared and the fires were piled high with wood to thank Odin for this omen and ask him for guidance. Soon the clan was sleepy with drink, and they returned to their lodges. The block of ice was left in the center of the village near the still roaring fires. In the morning, the members of the clan awoke to find that the ice was gone, and in its place was a man-thing.
He was naked, and cold to the touch, but getting warmer as the day drew on. In his hand was a crude club. While his shape resembled a man, he was shorter than anyone in the clan, built squat and hunched. His forehead was tall and looked like it could be used to as a ram to smash his enemies.
“Could this be one of the dwarves from the mountain,” asked one of the women of the village. “Perhaps Loki played a trick on him, or maybe he angered Odin.”
“Surely not,” replied Swissgar, “because he has no beard, and no dwarf would ever carry a weapon as crude as that.”
The men of the village brought the man-thing closer to the fire to warm and wake him, but kept careful watch in case he should arise and be an enemy.
When the man-thing finally woke, he was groggy and disoriented. He struck out at the people around him, but he attacked in fear, not from hate. Being trapped in the ice for so long, he fell tired quickly and was subdued easily. The men of the village brought him away to a storage house, but left him with food and water, and dressed him in some of the clothes that were too big for the boys and too small for the men.
After many weeks and a God’s worth of patience and effort, the man-thing, who answered to Grog, was taught the way of the Vikings, taught to use their tools and weapons. And he became one of their fiercest warriors, rushing into battle without fear of pain or death. The other clans learned to fear the members of Torbaldson’s clan and their caveman Viking.
Sunday, October 3, 2010
The Current Writing Method
For the current writing project, which I'm calling the sold soul story, I've gone back to writing by hand. This time around I'm writing on some loose sheets of 20-pound blue paper, folding each sheet in half long ways, and then usually short ways too. I'm numbering each side of the page and hand tallying the words as I go.
Why am I doing it this way? That's a really good question. For one, the blue paper was on hand when I started, and now that I've been working on it for a while in this manner, I've decided this is how I'm going to keep going with it. I've filled six sheets in my small handwriting, and not counting the writing I did last night, I'm at 8,346 words. My goal is to be to 12,899 words by October 13. Including today, that means I've got to do about 330 words per day. That's totally doable.
I ended up not writing on Friday--I was just too damn tired--and when I went back to it last night, I just didn't know what to write. After staring at the paper for more than an hour, writing a few words, and crossing them out, I finally was able to pick up and put something down on the page.
The blue paper also makes me think of Stephen King. In On Writing he said that one of his earliest books (Carrie maybe?) was written on a ream of green paper using an old typewriter. I'm no Stephen King, and I don't know that I ever will be, but something about that keeps with me and helps give me the push I need to keep going.
NaNoWriMo is coming up again and I'm trying to decide how I want to proceed. I don't want to completely abandon the project I'm working on now, and I want my NaNo experience to count, so I'll want to type it up. There's another project I started a while ago that wasn't quite working right, but I think I know how to fix part of it, so I might restart that (I was only about 6,000 words into it when I moved on) and maybe work on both, doing the 1667 words per day of NaNo and 300 words per day of the sold soul project. We'll see how well that works out.
Why am I doing it this way? That's a really good question. For one, the blue paper was on hand when I started, and now that I've been working on it for a while in this manner, I've decided this is how I'm going to keep going with it. I've filled six sheets in my small handwriting, and not counting the writing I did last night, I'm at 8,346 words. My goal is to be to 12,899 words by October 13. Including today, that means I've got to do about 330 words per day. That's totally doable.
I ended up not writing on Friday--I was just too damn tired--and when I went back to it last night, I just didn't know what to write. After staring at the paper for more than an hour, writing a few words, and crossing them out, I finally was able to pick up and put something down on the page.
The blue paper also makes me think of Stephen King. In On Writing he said that one of his earliest books (Carrie maybe?) was written on a ream of green paper using an old typewriter. I'm no Stephen King, and I don't know that I ever will be, but something about that keeps with me and helps give me the push I need to keep going.
NaNoWriMo is coming up again and I'm trying to decide how I want to proceed. I don't want to completely abandon the project I'm working on now, and I want my NaNo experience to count, so I'll want to type it up. There's another project I started a while ago that wasn't quite working right, but I think I know how to fix part of it, so I might restart that (I was only about 6,000 words into it when I moved on) and maybe work on both, doing the 1667 words per day of NaNo and 300 words per day of the sold soul project. We'll see how well that works out.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Selling Your Soul
My current novel project (4,200 words and counting) involves the main character selling his soul, the aftermath of that, and then trying to get it back. In the story, the character sells his soul for something really stupid, but it’s important to him, at least at the time of the sale.
The genesis of this story goes back to high school, where my best friend sold his soul for something pretty stupid. I won’t go into all the details now, because I’m saving that for the story. The short of it is he was searching high and low for a small something that he thought he’d lost, he got increasingly frustrated and said “I’d sell my soul for X” and slammed his fist down. When he slammed his hand down, X fell off of a pile of things he’d just gone through. There was no sulfur, no contract signed in blood, just panic and frustration and an offer spoken aloud.
This has gotten me to thinking lately about what a soul might be worth. Some might sell their soul for money, power, a second chance at life…These are all things that are important in different levels to different people. But what if you life was consumed with owning a mint condition Babe Ruth card? What if you were all consumed with owning the football used during the 1985 Chicago Bears Super Bowl game? What if you were really hungry and just wanted a Snickers?
And what would the effect of not having a soul have on a person? How would that person be viewed by others? Would they appear sickly or sinister or would they be hard to spot? What would happen at the end of your life when your soul is gone and death approached? And if you decided later that your soul was worth much more than what you sold it for how would you get it back?
I don’t necessarily have any answers for these questions, but these are the things that have been running through my head lately.
Monday, August 23, 2010
Writing in Fits and Starts
Two weeks ago Wednesday, I attended a local Writer's Support Group at one of the libraries to the north of us. It was...interesting. It wasn't exactly what I expected, but then I wasn't exactly sure what to expect to begin with. There were seven other people there, including the group's instructor/leader, and then one other member that wasn't able to make it that time around. Everyone else there knew each other pretty well, and I got the impression they'd all been going to the meetings for some time. I went to just check it out and see what it was like, and it seemed to me that they just assumed I was going to stick with the group from the moment my butt hit the chair.
The reason I went is because lately, I've been trying to get into more of a writing groove, and I want something that's going to keep me on track. I actually finished the first draft of a story a couple weeks ago, and have revised it once since. I started another story (again) the other day, and hope to keep working on that.
It's slow going, especially since I've gone back to hand writing first drafts. But if I'm going to be serious about this whole writing thing, and getting published one day, then I need to get serious about this whole writing thing.
While I won't be able to go to the next Writer's Support Group meeting (work conflict) I have a feel for what they do and how they encourage writers and keep them on track, and I think (and hope) this'll be just what I need.
The reason I went is because lately, I've been trying to get into more of a writing groove, and I want something that's going to keep me on track. I actually finished the first draft of a story a couple weeks ago, and have revised it once since. I started another story (again) the other day, and hope to keep working on that.
It's slow going, especially since I've gone back to hand writing first drafts. But if I'm going to be serious about this whole writing thing, and getting published one day, then I need to get serious about this whole writing thing.
While I won't be able to go to the next Writer's Support Group meeting (work conflict) I have a feel for what they do and how they encourage writers and keep them on track, and I think (and hope) this'll be just what I need.
Sunday, August 15, 2010
Early Writings in Science Fiction
We went to a party on Saturday night, and my parents watched the kids for us. When we dropped them off at the house, my mom gave me a short stack of paper she had come across while cleaning my brother's closet. It was a handful of short stories that I had written in middle school and high school. Unfortunately, only one of them was dated, so I'm not sure of the chronology of when I wrote all three.
So I submit to you 'Midnight Bombing' which was written for the eighth grade writing competition at Dundee Middle School. According to the cover sheet, I had Language Arts in 4th period and Mrs. Schumacher was my teacher. This would have been submitted in 1995 or 1996, depending on what time of year they did the writing competition. I would have been 12 or 13 at the time. I believe a wrote an earlier version of this story at a writing camp my let me go to the summer before.
Since I don't know where the file for this may or may not exist, I'll have to transcribe it. I promise to transcribe it exactly (typos and all) as it is on the page.
So I submit to you 'Midnight Bombing' which was written for the eighth grade writing competition at Dundee Middle School. According to the cover sheet, I had Language Arts in 4th period and Mrs. Schumacher was my teacher. This would have been submitted in 1995 or 1996, depending on what time of year they did the writing competition. I would have been 12 or 13 at the time. I believe a wrote an earlier version of this story at a writing camp my let me go to the summer before.
Since I don't know where the file for this may or may not exist, I'll have to transcribe it. I promise to transcribe it exactly (typos and all) as it is on the page.
MIDNIGHT BOMBING
The year 2045, and the world is at peace. It started to come to peace in the year 2015 when the people of generation x came to power. They changed the world by first signing the treaty of the world. Next the new world government was set to the liking of all people. Then all technology was halted buy care for disease and over coming disability. Finally stricter laws were made about the ecosystem and animals. People worked hard restoring the earth's health and beauty. Once all this was done scientists worked on building weapons of defense.
they created many weapons, but their best weapons were their Hyperjets. The Hyperjets are ships made of other ships and new pieces. Their weapons consist of nitrogen bombs, flame missiles, and laser cannons. The jets also contain a hyperjump system to travel past light speed through hyperspace. also in the jets are suits that are from the ship. When the pilot sits and turns on the jet the seat folds around the pilot with all things necessary for space travel. The suits also contain small variations of the jets weapons.
It is a perfect night the sky is clear Joseph Falcon is looking at the stars. Joseph is the leader of the Fire and Ice squad the group of people who pilot the Hyperjets. The stars seam to grow. Once of them shoots at Joseph. He then realizes that the stars are alien space craft come to attack the earth. He dives into his hover avoiding the laser fire.
"Sub base this is Falcon reporting. Code red hostile alien threat entering atmosphere, open sub tunnel and alert the squad!"
He rushes to weaponry base in his hover car avoiding ion fire left and right. The sub tunnel, the massive door to the weaponry base, open lifting a huge door out of the ground. When he arrives the squad is ready and waiting. Joseph gets to his jet as quickly as possible. They blast off into the night to meat their adversaries.
They fly with great speed to get rid of the threat as soon as possible. Meeting the aliens they fight. Realizing the damage their doing to the earth they get the aliens to follow them to space.
"This is where the party begins. Set targets, load missiles, and fire when ready." Says Joseph to the rest of the squad. The alien ships though small in size can do considerable damage. The aliens getting itchy trigger fingers fire their lasers at the earthlings. Making the hyperjets zig zag to dodge the fire. The jets send out a barrage of missiles hitting the alien craft like arrows to a bulls-eye.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" Is the only thing that escapes the lips of red five.
"That was uncalled for you alien scum," says Joseph, "All wingmen load nitrogen bombs and hit all possible targets."
They load and fire as commanded. They hit all craft shot at freezing them to instant shattering. Out of the deep black of space appears the mother ship Bigger than both groups in combat one-thousand fold. The sound of the massive engine lost in the soundlessness of space. Shines with the light of one-hundred fluorescent bulbs momentarily blinding the squad. That moment was all needed for the mother ship to launch another group of ships. When the light dims the pilots see the newly arrived ship as a gigantic egg.
Joesph sees the huge bay door and gets an idea. "This is flight leader Falcon follow me in full throttle." He says flying toward the mother ship.
They fly toward the bay door blasting lasers left and right. Landing in the docking bay they hop from there ships and start toward the control room. Still in their armor they check the suits weapons and power, satisfied they head forward. They reach the object of their mission, the control room. It is a room full of glowing screens and large control panels. On the screens are pictures of other races the aliens enslaved and pictures of them enslaving humans.
The doors slam shut and aliens poor out of the walls squealing in delight of fresh food. At first glance they would appear to be glow in the dark humans. At a long look a person would notice their hideousness. Their hands a three long slim clawed fingers. One eye stretches across their hole face and their notsrils are two small holes on their flat faces. There robed in loose pieces of blood red clothing.
The aliens close in the squad becomes panicky. "throw out your time bombs cries one of the men in the squad.
They all do so and the bombs automatically set for midnight. Then the same man who suggested to throw down the bombs uses the nitrogen spray in his suit to freeze the door solid. The group sees what he is doing and shoot the aliens to buy him time. When he is done he throws a grenade at the door blowing it wide open. The squad uses their rocket packs to escape to their jets. When they get there they discover the bay door is closed .
"Use all flame missiles on the door!" Shouts Joseph frantically.
When the squad rides off the alien space craft they forgot about attacks them head on. The squad rushed with adrenaline rid themselves of the mediocre threat quickly. They get out range of the explosion and feel a great weight lifted off their shoulders for they had succeeded and lived to tell of it.
Awesome, right? I'm not surprised that the judges of the competition didn't get back to me.
they created many weapons, but their best weapons were their Hyperjets. The Hyperjets are ships made of other ships and new pieces. Their weapons consist of nitrogen bombs, flame missiles, and laser cannons. The jets also contain a hyperjump system to travel past light speed through hyperspace. also in the jets are suits that are from the ship. When the pilot sits and turns on the jet the seat folds around the pilot with all things necessary for space travel. The suits also contain small variations of the jets weapons.
It is a perfect night the sky is clear Joseph Falcon is looking at the stars. Joseph is the leader of the Fire and Ice squad the group of people who pilot the Hyperjets. The stars seam to grow. Once of them shoots at Joseph. He then realizes that the stars are alien space craft come to attack the earth. He dives into his hover avoiding the laser fire.
"Sub base this is Falcon reporting. Code red hostile alien threat entering atmosphere, open sub tunnel and alert the squad!"
He rushes to weaponry base in his hover car avoiding ion fire left and right. The sub tunnel, the massive door to the weaponry base, open lifting a huge door out of the ground. When he arrives the squad is ready and waiting. Joseph gets to his jet as quickly as possible. They blast off into the night to meat their adversaries.
They fly with great speed to get rid of the threat as soon as possible. Meeting the aliens they fight. Realizing the damage their doing to the earth they get the aliens to follow them to space.
"This is where the party begins. Set targets, load missiles, and fire when ready." Says Joseph to the rest of the squad. The alien ships though small in size can do considerable damage. The aliens getting itchy trigger fingers fire their lasers at the earthlings. Making the hyperjets zig zag to dodge the fire. The jets send out a barrage of missiles hitting the alien craft like arrows to a bulls-eye.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" Is the only thing that escapes the lips of red five.
"That was uncalled for you alien scum," says Joseph, "All wingmen load nitrogen bombs and hit all possible targets."
They load and fire as commanded. They hit all craft shot at freezing them to instant shattering. Out of the deep black of space appears the mother ship Bigger than both groups in combat one-thousand fold. The sound of the massive engine lost in the soundlessness of space. Shines with the light of one-hundred fluorescent bulbs momentarily blinding the squad. That moment was all needed for the mother ship to launch another group of ships. When the light dims the pilots see the newly arrived ship as a gigantic egg.
Joesph sees the huge bay door and gets an idea. "This is flight leader Falcon follow me in full throttle." He says flying toward the mother ship.
They fly toward the bay door blasting lasers left and right. Landing in the docking bay they hop from there ships and start toward the control room. Still in their armor they check the suits weapons and power, satisfied they head forward. They reach the object of their mission, the control room. It is a room full of glowing screens and large control panels. On the screens are pictures of other races the aliens enslaved and pictures of them enslaving humans.
The doors slam shut and aliens poor out of the walls squealing in delight of fresh food. At first glance they would appear to be glow in the dark humans. At a long look a person would notice their hideousness. Their hands a three long slim clawed fingers. One eye stretches across their hole face and their notsrils are two small holes on their flat faces. There robed in loose pieces of blood red clothing.
The aliens close in the squad becomes panicky. "throw out your time bombs cries one of the men in the squad.
They all do so and the bombs automatically set for midnight. Then the same man who suggested to throw down the bombs uses the nitrogen spray in his suit to freeze the door solid. The group sees what he is doing and shoot the aliens to buy him time. When he is done he throws a grenade at the door blowing it wide open. The squad uses their rocket packs to escape to their jets. When they get there they discover the bay door is closed .
"Use all flame missiles on the door!" Shouts Joseph frantically.
When the squad rides off the alien space craft they forgot about attacks them head on. The squad rushed with adrenaline rid themselves of the mediocre threat quickly. They get out range of the explosion and feel a great weight lifted off their shoulders for they had succeeded and lived to tell of it.
Awesome, right? I'm not surprised that the judges of the competition didn't get back to me.
Thursday, July 8, 2010
The State of Things
I realize it's been over a month since I've posted anything to the blog. Brandi keeps encouraging me to come round here and update, and by the time I get home from work, and dinner's made, and the kids are in bed, I don't really feel like being on the computer much. I really would like to get into a regular blog habit again, but I've been working on some other writing projects, and while the mood strikes me I'm going to work on those. So here's a quick update for those of you who are interested.
The Family:
Everyone's doing fine. We've had a run of colds going through the house recently, which has targeted me last. I'll be phlegmy for a while. The kids are growing quickly. Logan is doing well in gymnastics and has discovered the joys of Super Mario. Ava is getting so big, and she seems to be so smart, and she wants to walk so bad. Brandi is doing well, and has even started up a crafting project, so if you're looking for some flower headbands (mostly sewn by yours truly) go here.
Brandi and I celebrated our five-year anniversary recently by traveling down to Navy Pier and then having dinner at the Signature Lounge on the 95th (or is it 96th?) story of the Hancock Tower. It was a great night away from the kids, and it was too bad it had to be so short.
There are still little home projects going on, but nothing as substantial as the great kitchen project of '10.
The Writing:
I have a handful of projects going on right now. There's the fourth attempt at a novel, which I haven't looked at in at least a month. There's a lycanthrope story for an anthology that has a call for open submissions. Then there's a suburban fantasy story that I started the other night am just a couple handwritten pages into. I'll probably go work on that last one after I'm done with this blog post.
Work:
Work is pretty busy and getting busier all the time. I recently got approval for a big project that should keep me busy for some time.
That's all for now.
The Family:
Everyone's doing fine. We've had a run of colds going through the house recently, which has targeted me last. I'll be phlegmy for a while. The kids are growing quickly. Logan is doing well in gymnastics and has discovered the joys of Super Mario. Ava is getting so big, and she seems to be so smart, and she wants to walk so bad. Brandi is doing well, and has even started up a crafting project, so if you're looking for some flower headbands (mostly sewn by yours truly) go here.
Brandi and I celebrated our five-year anniversary recently by traveling down to Navy Pier and then having dinner at the Signature Lounge on the 95th (or is it 96th?) story of the Hancock Tower. It was a great night away from the kids, and it was too bad it had to be so short.
There are still little home projects going on, but nothing as substantial as the great kitchen project of '10.
The Writing:
I have a handful of projects going on right now. There's the fourth attempt at a novel, which I haven't looked at in at least a month. There's a lycanthrope story for an anthology that has a call for open submissions. Then there's a suburban fantasy story that I started the other night am just a couple handwritten pages into. I'll probably go work on that last one after I'm done with this blog post.
Work:
Work is pretty busy and getting busier all the time. I recently got approval for a big project that should keep me busy for some time.
That's all for now.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Inspiration Doesn’t Run on a Schedule
Why is it that inspiration strikes at the worst of times? Times when you’re not able to seize it, so all you can do is hope to remember it later. It happens to me all the time, if I’m at work, about to go to sleep, driving, etc.
I’ve heard of people carrying around a pad of paper and a pen with them wherever they go. I haven’t tried that. I really don’t like to have a lot in my pockets, but maybe that’s a good excuse to buy some new cargo pants.
Anyway, I had a good idea today when I took a little break a work. I tried to get as much down on paper as I could, and then it was such a nice day out I went for a little walk. As I went along, ideas kept churning, but I couldn’t really stop to get them down. I’m sure very few people are able to put inspiration on a schedule, but wouldn’t it be nice if we could?
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Merlin in the Modern World: Buying a Blender
"Excuse me sir, do you need any help with those?" "No. Leave me in peace so that I may choose the blender that is destined to adorn my kitchen."
"Ok, but just so you know, that particular model has five speeds, stainless steel blades, and a three-year blade wa-" the clerk started to say.
"Silence," Merlin commanded and gave a wave of his fingers at the clerk. "I told you that I do not need any help."
The clerk clutched at the place where his mouth had been only a moment before. Now, the bottom half of his face was smooth. The clerk tried to speak, but all that came out was a panicked moan. His fingers scurried back and forth where his lips had been. His eyes were wild. He stood a moment longer before rushing off. The old wizard paid no attention to him.
"Now, Alton Brown used a Blendtec blender on his show recently," Merlin said to no one. "He is a wizard for the modern age if I have ever seen one. But I don't know if the Blendtec brand is right for me. They do have some rather nice hand mixers. I wouldn't have to worry about storing another big piece of equipment then. Perhaps someone can help me."
He turned to where the clerk had been standing and saw that he wasn't there any more. "Where did that fellow go? You can't just abandon a customer in the middle of a sale. What are they teaching these kids when the come in for a job? I shall have to summon help."
He whispered a brief incantation and raised his right palm toward the ceiling. A burst of greenish flame shot up ten feet. It was only a moment later when a security staffer came rushing around the corner.
"Not you again," the bulky man said. He dropped the fire extinguisher to his side, but did not let it go. He knew better, after the last time.
"Ah Mr. Reynolds. I need help finding a blender. It will be used for many things, including in the preparation of potions and powders that could bring world rulers to their knees and propel man into a new age of enlightenment.
"I don't know how you got in here but you need to leave, now. We told you last time that you weren't allowed back in the store, not after you made that refrigerator come to life and it almost ate that old woman. You also scrambled all the store's computers, trying to pay for your washer/dryer with some kind of glowing rock."
"The Rock of Quixil is worth far more than any washer/dryer combo, even if they have a one button wrinkle release setting."
"I don't care. You need to go. Now. How did you even get in here in the first place? I didn't see you come in and I've been at the doors all day."
"I can alter my shape as easily as you put on a new pair of pants." To prove it, he changed himself into a giant newt and then changed back.
"Look, you've got to go. If you don't leave now, I'm going to have to call the police. And from what I've heard from a buddy I've got on the force, you don't want the police coming around here. They're still pretty mad about when you changed everyone's tap water to wine and all those kids got drunk and were falling over each other in the street."
At that point, the young clerk who Merlin had silenced came running around the corner, still making panicked sounds. He had scratched up the bottom of his face, and there were thin lines of blood running down his chin. He saw the security guard and ran up to him, pointing at his face and trying to yell.
"Now that does it," the guard said, "I'm calling the cops."
He stormed off to the store's main office. The young clerk looked at Merlin, his eyes pleading.
"Oh, fine, you may speak," Merlin said and waived his hand again. The man's mouth reappeared. "What can you tell me about the Blendtec blender here? I saw Alton Brown using one on TV, but I just don't know if it's right for me."
The clerk screamed and ran off.
"Must not be a fan of the Blendtec blender. Maybe I should go with the KitchenAid."
"Ok, but just so you know, that particular model has five speeds, stainless steel blades, and a three-year blade wa-" the clerk started to say.
"Silence," Merlin commanded and gave a wave of his fingers at the clerk. "I told you that I do not need any help."
The clerk clutched at the place where his mouth had been only a moment before. Now, the bottom half of his face was smooth. The clerk tried to speak, but all that came out was a panicked moan. His fingers scurried back and forth where his lips had been. His eyes were wild. He stood a moment longer before rushing off. The old wizard paid no attention to him.
"Now, Alton Brown used a Blendtec blender on his show recently," Merlin said to no one. "He is a wizard for the modern age if I have ever seen one. But I don't know if the Blendtec brand is right for me. They do have some rather nice hand mixers. I wouldn't have to worry about storing another big piece of equipment then. Perhaps someone can help me."
He turned to where the clerk had been standing and saw that he wasn't there any more. "Where did that fellow go? You can't just abandon a customer in the middle of a sale. What are they teaching these kids when the come in for a job? I shall have to summon help."
He whispered a brief incantation and raised his right palm toward the ceiling. A burst of greenish flame shot up ten feet. It was only a moment later when a security staffer came rushing around the corner.
"Not you again," the bulky man said. He dropped the fire extinguisher to his side, but did not let it go. He knew better, after the last time.
"Ah Mr. Reynolds. I need help finding a blender. It will be used for many things, including in the preparation of potions and powders that could bring world rulers to their knees and propel man into a new age of enlightenment.
"I don't know how you got in here but you need to leave, now. We told you last time that you weren't allowed back in the store, not after you made that refrigerator come to life and it almost ate that old woman. You also scrambled all the store's computers, trying to pay for your washer/dryer with some kind of glowing rock."
"The Rock of Quixil is worth far more than any washer/dryer combo, even if they have a one button wrinkle release setting."
"I don't care. You need to go. Now. How did you even get in here in the first place? I didn't see you come in and I've been at the doors all day."
"I can alter my shape as easily as you put on a new pair of pants." To prove it, he changed himself into a giant newt and then changed back.
"Look, you've got to go. If you don't leave now, I'm going to have to call the police. And from what I've heard from a buddy I've got on the force, you don't want the police coming around here. They're still pretty mad about when you changed everyone's tap water to wine and all those kids got drunk and were falling over each other in the street."
At that point, the young clerk who Merlin had silenced came running around the corner, still making panicked sounds. He had scratched up the bottom of his face, and there were thin lines of blood running down his chin. He saw the security guard and ran up to him, pointing at his face and trying to yell.
"Now that does it," the guard said, "I'm calling the cops."
He stormed off to the store's main office. The young clerk looked at Merlin, his eyes pleading.
"Oh, fine, you may speak," Merlin said and waived his hand again. The man's mouth reappeared. "What can you tell me about the Blendtec blender here? I saw Alton Brown using one on TV, but I just don't know if it's right for me."
The clerk screamed and ran off.
"Must not be a fan of the Blendtec blender. Maybe I should go with the KitchenAid."
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
The Writing, It Takes So Long
I'm making slow but (somewhat) steady progess on The Great Writing project #4. I'm still writing this one by hand, that is at least until I run out of space in the notebook that I'm putting it all down in. It's a vastly different process to write long hand. It takes a lot longer for one. In the time it takes me to hand write one page, I could probably type two pages. I have to be more aware of the ideas that come downstream, since I'm not getting words down on the page as fast and I might not reach the point I'm thinking of for a couple days.
It's frustrating and rewarding at the same time.
This time around I'm working on a super hero/super villain story. I'm trying to play with some of the icons of the super hero genre while creating something all of my own. So far, it's going well, but I'm only eight to ten pages into it.
It's frustrating and rewarding at the same time.
This time around I'm working on a super hero/super villain story. I'm trying to play with some of the icons of the super hero genre while creating something all of my own. So far, it's going well, but I'm only eight to ten pages into it.
Monday, December 7, 2009
NaNoWriMo 2009 Results, and Why I’m a Glutton for Punishment
I finished NaNoWriMo 2009 with 50,218 words by the skin of my teeth. On November 30, when I got home from work at about 9:45, I had 1,400 words to go. No big deal. However, my computer decided that the power cord wasn’t going to connect right, and for about an hour, the laptop would shut down due to a lack of power. It’s a second-hand laptop (the battery never worked while I have owned it) and has served its purpose so far, but right now it’s all jacked up with this power issue and some viruses and/or adware.
So every five minutes or so, just about the time I would get the computer back up and get the file open, it would shut off on me. Or I would be able to type about two sentences, hit save, and it would turn off. This went on for about an hour and I really thought that I wasn’t going to get my novel uploaded into the NaNo robot thingie before 12:00. Brandi suggested I just copy and paste some text, knowing that I was going to finish and it was the computer that was holding me back. That felt too much like cheating to me and so I declined.
Finally, I was able to get the computer balanced just right on the edge of the footstool and got my word count in. The story doesn’t have a proper ending on it, just some notes on where I want the ending to go. Overall, the story needs a lot of work, but I am satisfied with the rough draft that I was able to pump out in 30 days. There were too many of those days in there that I did not write at all and I had to play a lot of catch up toward the end of the month.
The novel is the story of a retired professor/widower who decides to finally go on the trips that he and his late wife had planned on going on and never got around to. The story takes place in the late 1950s or early/middle 1960s, for which I will have to do some research on a revision. As he starts to travel, Luther encounters many strange things that he would have never thought existed, including people who have lived for decades in the same Illinois corn field (without the farmer’s knowledge), man-eating Venus fly traps, and killer squirrels with a thirst for blood, among other things. I was also excited that when I go into revision I will be able to use some of the Survival Tips that I started writing a couple years ago. I’ll give it at least a month before I go back and start to do any kind of revision on it.
Why am I a glutton for punishment? Is it because I plan to revisit this somewhat random work of fiction? No, it’s because last night I started another large writing project that has been bubbling around in my brain since some point, mid-NaNo. This is a super villain story in which the villain finds out that getting everything he wants isn’t necessarily what he wants. I’m hand writing this one, partially because the computer is on the blink and partially because I enjoy the process of writing something out by hand, making notes in the margins, etc. and it has been a long time since I’ve done that.
Since I work at a library, my writing goal is to one day have a book published, check it out to a patron and say “You know, the N.Y. Times review of that is pretty harsh, it’s really not as bad as they say it is.”
So every five minutes or so, just about the time I would get the computer back up and get the file open, it would shut off on me. Or I would be able to type about two sentences, hit save, and it would turn off. This went on for about an hour and I really thought that I wasn’t going to get my novel uploaded into the NaNo robot thingie before 12:00. Brandi suggested I just copy and paste some text, knowing that I was going to finish and it was the computer that was holding me back. That felt too much like cheating to me and so I declined.
Finally, I was able to get the computer balanced just right on the edge of the footstool and got my word count in. The story doesn’t have a proper ending on it, just some notes on where I want the ending to go. Overall, the story needs a lot of work, but I am satisfied with the rough draft that I was able to pump out in 30 days. There were too many of those days in there that I did not write at all and I had to play a lot of catch up toward the end of the month.
The novel is the story of a retired professor/widower who decides to finally go on the trips that he and his late wife had planned on going on and never got around to. The story takes place in the late 1950s or early/middle 1960s, for which I will have to do some research on a revision. As he starts to travel, Luther encounters many strange things that he would have never thought existed, including people who have lived for decades in the same Illinois corn field (without the farmer’s knowledge), man-eating Venus fly traps, and killer squirrels with a thirst for blood, among other things. I was also excited that when I go into revision I will be able to use some of the Survival Tips that I started writing a couple years ago. I’ll give it at least a month before I go back and start to do any kind of revision on it.
Why am I a glutton for punishment? Is it because I plan to revisit this somewhat random work of fiction? No, it’s because last night I started another large writing project that has been bubbling around in my brain since some point, mid-NaNo. This is a super villain story in which the villain finds out that getting everything he wants isn’t necessarily what he wants. I’m hand writing this one, partially because the computer is on the blink and partially because I enjoy the process of writing something out by hand, making notes in the margins, etc. and it has been a long time since I’ve done that.
Since I work at a library, my writing goal is to one day have a book published, check it out to a patron and say “You know, the N.Y. Times review of that is pretty harsh, it’s really not as bad as they say it is.”
Monday, November 30, 2009
Today's Word Count
48,001/50,000
I have been banging out 2,500 words or more for the last week or so to catch up. Most nights I haven't been getting to sleep until 2 or 2:30 to do so, and I'm looking forward to hitting 50K and trying to get my sleep schedule back. Gotta work tonight so I'll have to find time to get out these last 2,000 words. Good luck to everyone participating in NaNoWriMo on the last day!
Monday, November 23, 2009
NaNoWriMo Word Count
29,003/50,000
As you can see, I am quite a ways behind where I should be at by the end of the day today (about 38,000 words). Two weekends full of non-writing activity and an overpowering tiredness have left me with very little word count each day for the past several days, including one day with no words. I am determined to make it, so going forward I will have to do about 3,000 words per day for the next week, which will be no small task. If I don't make it, oh well, at least I gave it a shot. If I do make it, then I think I'll be having a beer or two on the 30th. Anyway, back to writing, I mean, work.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
My Writing Buddy
As I said before, most nights over the last 10 days or so, I've been working on my NaNoWriMo story with Ava in my lap or held in the crook of an arm or sleeping on my chest. Here we are last night as I worked on pounding out some words.
As you can tell by the tilt of her head, and the fact that her eyes were open at this point, she is totally engrossed in the story.
Progress!
Last night was pretty calm, so I was able to pound out a cohesive 4,000 or so words yesterday. This brings my current total to 14,124, putting me just under 1,000 words behind where I should have been for yesterday. I should be able to close the gap today and catch up to where I should be for today (16,670).
The trick will be maintaining my word count for the rest of the month. With Windycon this weekend, that's going to be a trial, but I might be able to make a little headway before Friday to make up for a lack of time Friday night through Sunday.
The trick will be maintaining my word count for the rest of the month. With Windycon this weekend, that's going to be a trial, but I might be able to make a little headway before Friday to make up for a lack of time Friday night through Sunday.
Monday, November 9, 2009
NaNoWriMo Word Count Update
My current word count is 10,584. I'm still a few thousand words behind. Yesterday I wanted to get to at least 11,000 words before I called it a night, but Logan started calling out for me from his room around 10:30. I got upstairs and checked on him.
He was a little awake and calling out for me to lay down. I checked his forehead as I usually do when he makes noise in the night and it felt pretty warm. Not only that, but his arms, for some reason, felt like they were on fire. Obvisouly that couldn't be good. So despite his protests I went downstairs to get the thermometer. Luckily, his fever was only 99.4. I went back downstairs and got him some medicine, being sure to wash my hands each time I left his room. Then, I laid down with him for a while so he would go back to sleep.
When I was finally able to sneak out of his room it was close to 11. I worked on my story for about ten or fifteen more minutes before he started calling out again. This time when I laid down with him I ended up falling asleep next to him until about 1. At this point Brandi was headed upstairs with Ava, the night owl, and I was so tired there was no way I was going to be able to get up and type another thousand words or so.
Logan's fever was gone in the morning, so that's good, but I still felt like a bit of a bad parent when my second thought when I went upstairs and found out that he was warm was "Oh great, this is going to cut into my writing time."
He was a little awake and calling out for me to lay down. I checked his forehead as I usually do when he makes noise in the night and it felt pretty warm. Not only that, but his arms, for some reason, felt like they were on fire. Obvisouly that couldn't be good. So despite his protests I went downstairs to get the thermometer. Luckily, his fever was only 99.4. I went back downstairs and got him some medicine, being sure to wash my hands each time I left his room. Then, I laid down with him for a while so he would go back to sleep.
When I was finally able to sneak out of his room it was close to 11. I worked on my story for about ten or fifteen more minutes before he started calling out again. This time when I laid down with him I ended up falling asleep next to him until about 1. At this point Brandi was headed upstairs with Ava, the night owl, and I was so tired there was no way I was going to be able to get up and type another thousand words or so.
Logan's fever was gone in the morning, so that's good, but I still felt like a bit of a bad parent when my second thought when I went upstairs and found out that he was warm was "Oh great, this is going to cut into my writing time."
Saturday, November 7, 2009
NaNo, NaNo Where Does the Time Go?
It's NaNoWriMo time again, and so whatever free time I can scrape up with a computer around is going there. For those of you who don't know, it's the month-long writing marathon to crank out a 50,000-word novel in 30 days. This will be my third year attempting NaNoWriMo, and I hope that I can get my word count in on time.
I have a bunch of friends who are working on NaNoWriMo as well, and it's nice to have the support system, as well as a little bit of a sense of competition. Among my friends that are doing it this year are (in no particular order): MWT, Eric, Jeri, Kimby, and Shawn. I'm sure I'm leaving people out, so my appologies to those I didn't mention above. Good luck to everyone participating this year!
It's interesting the way each year is different when doing NaNo. And I'm not just talking about the story itself.
The first year I did it, 2007, we had just moved and there was a lot going on at home. I wrote when there was time, including scrawling on a legal pad during my hour-long commute. Don't worry, I kept my eyes on the road and just wrote really big. In addition to unpacking and trying to get the house in order, Logan was just over a year old and I was working two jobs. When I was at my part-time job, I would write on a piece of paper when I could and then type it up when I got home. The fact that there was so much going on forced me to make time to write, and it worked really well in my favor. I knew what I wanted to write about before hand, and had at least part of the story figured out. I wasn't too keen on this story while I was writing it, and about half way through I got another idea that I wanted to work on, but it was too late in the month to start over.
The second year, I wrote in a much more linear fashion, and there was less going on around the house, which didn't always work out to my favor. This year, I worked on the idea that I had from 2007 and I liked the story a lot more. I had another idea about half way through the month again, and while I liked it, I didn't want to go off and abandon my first idea to work on the second. Also, the second idea would have been a different story that takes place in the same world of the first 2008 story.
This year is again entirely different. Once again, there is a lot going on at home. There's a new born, who demands a lot of our time, there's a three-year-old who demands a lot of our time (partially because of the new born), and there are a lot of family/social obligations. We have Ava's baptism in a couple weeks, Thanksgiving being celebrated on two different days to ensure we have more time to spend with my side and Brandi's sides of the family, there's Windycon next weekend (I know, I brought that one on myself), and whatever other things pop up between now and November 30. At my current job, there aren't great periods of down time like there were at my last job that would allow me to boost my word count during the day. At night, it would be impossible to work on my story while Logan's awake, and then after he's in bed I try to give Brandi more of a break by taking Ava and rocking her and all that. It's become our regular bonding time. This means there have been a lot of nights where I'm typing one-handed and rocking from side-to-side to keep the baby calm. And let me tell you, to type with a baby in one arm and a laptop on your lap makes you feel so warm you think you're going to melt into the couch. A lot of nights I'll be typing until Ava is fully asleep and I can bring her upstairs to bed, which has been between 1 and 2 lately. Or, if I'm lucky and she falls asleep before that, I'll take her upstairs and try to stay up and type a little more, but that only works for an hour or so before I need to get to bed so I can function and make decisions at work the next day.
Also, this time around, I really had no idea what I was going to write about before I started writing, so I had a start and stop approach. I thought about writing about werewolves, inter-office warfare, paranormal investigators, and cryptozoology. By day three I had started three different stories and, as MWT so accuretly said, "each restart has about 500 more words than the previous one." The third story finally took, and that's the one I've been working on. I'm still in the mundane, building it up part of the story, but it seems to be coming along well.
So my current word count is 7,020, which is a few thousand words behind where I should be for day 7. I'm hoping that I'll be able to generate 2,000 words a day for a while to catch up. But any progress is good progress and if I have to do some real late nighters toward the end of the month, so be it.
This year's novel, which as of yet does not have a title, incorporates the Survial Tips that I've been working on for a while. When all is said and done, I think I'll use the Survial Tips as a lead in to the chapters, plugging them in only after I've reached my 50,000-word goal.
In this story, a newly retired university professor and widower, Luther, decides to fulfill the dreams that he and his deceased wife, Martha, had by going out and actually seeing part of the world. Up to this point, it isn't that Luther has been a shut in, but as he reasons, there's always been something else going on to prevent him from ever taking a trip. After making sure the house will be looked after while he's away, he sets out for destinations near and far. During his travels, he takes with him a journal that Martha had given him but he'd never written in to record his experiences. This is where the survival tips come in. As he encouters things that he would have never thought possible, he creates these reports so that others might know the pitfalls that are (in the story) very real but largely unknown. From the vast corn fields of Illinois to giant, man-eating Venus flytraps, Luther experiences a world he would have never guessed is even possible.
I have a bunch of friends who are working on NaNoWriMo as well, and it's nice to have the support system, as well as a little bit of a sense of competition. Among my friends that are doing it this year are (in no particular order): MWT, Eric, Jeri, Kimby, and Shawn. I'm sure I'm leaving people out, so my appologies to those I didn't mention above. Good luck to everyone participating this year!
It's interesting the way each year is different when doing NaNo. And I'm not just talking about the story itself.
The first year I did it, 2007, we had just moved and there was a lot going on at home. I wrote when there was time, including scrawling on a legal pad during my hour-long commute. Don't worry, I kept my eyes on the road and just wrote really big. In addition to unpacking and trying to get the house in order, Logan was just over a year old and I was working two jobs. When I was at my part-time job, I would write on a piece of paper when I could and then type it up when I got home. The fact that there was so much going on forced me to make time to write, and it worked really well in my favor. I knew what I wanted to write about before hand, and had at least part of the story figured out. I wasn't too keen on this story while I was writing it, and about half way through I got another idea that I wanted to work on, but it was too late in the month to start over.
The second year, I wrote in a much more linear fashion, and there was less going on around the house, which didn't always work out to my favor. This year, I worked on the idea that I had from 2007 and I liked the story a lot more. I had another idea about half way through the month again, and while I liked it, I didn't want to go off and abandon my first idea to work on the second. Also, the second idea would have been a different story that takes place in the same world of the first 2008 story.
This year is again entirely different. Once again, there is a lot going on at home. There's a new born, who demands a lot of our time, there's a three-year-old who demands a lot of our time (partially because of the new born), and there are a lot of family/social obligations. We have Ava's baptism in a couple weeks, Thanksgiving being celebrated on two different days to ensure we have more time to spend with my side and Brandi's sides of the family, there's Windycon next weekend (I know, I brought that one on myself), and whatever other things pop up between now and November 30. At my current job, there aren't great periods of down time like there were at my last job that would allow me to boost my word count during the day. At night, it would be impossible to work on my story while Logan's awake, and then after he's in bed I try to give Brandi more of a break by taking Ava and rocking her and all that. It's become our regular bonding time. This means there have been a lot of nights where I'm typing one-handed and rocking from side-to-side to keep the baby calm. And let me tell you, to type with a baby in one arm and a laptop on your lap makes you feel so warm you think you're going to melt into the couch. A lot of nights I'll be typing until Ava is fully asleep and I can bring her upstairs to bed, which has been between 1 and 2 lately. Or, if I'm lucky and she falls asleep before that, I'll take her upstairs and try to stay up and type a little more, but that only works for an hour or so before I need to get to bed so I can function and make decisions at work the next day.
Also, this time around, I really had no idea what I was going to write about before I started writing, so I had a start and stop approach. I thought about writing about werewolves, inter-office warfare, paranormal investigators, and cryptozoology. By day three I had started three different stories and, as MWT so accuretly said, "each restart has about 500 more words than the previous one." The third story finally took, and that's the one I've been working on. I'm still in the mundane, building it up part of the story, but it seems to be coming along well.
So my current word count is 7,020, which is a few thousand words behind where I should be for day 7. I'm hoping that I'll be able to generate 2,000 words a day for a while to catch up. But any progress is good progress and if I have to do some real late nighters toward the end of the month, so be it.
This year's novel, which as of yet does not have a title, incorporates the Survial Tips that I've been working on for a while. When all is said and done, I think I'll use the Survial Tips as a lead in to the chapters, plugging them in only after I've reached my 50,000-word goal.
In this story, a newly retired university professor and widower, Luther, decides to fulfill the dreams that he and his deceased wife, Martha, had by going out and actually seeing part of the world. Up to this point, it isn't that Luther has been a shut in, but as he reasons, there's always been something else going on to prevent him from ever taking a trip. After making sure the house will be looked after while he's away, he sets out for destinations near and far. During his travels, he takes with him a journal that Martha had given him but he'd never written in to record his experiences. This is where the survival tips come in. As he encouters things that he would have never thought possible, he creates these reports so that others might know the pitfalls that are (in the story) very real but largely unknown. From the vast corn fields of Illinois to giant, man-eating Venus flytraps, Luther experiences a world he would have never guessed is even possible.
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